Caught up in Circles
by lucindadixon
Summary: "She sounds calm enough. She probably looks calm enough. But she grips Kurt's hand like the world is spinning off its axis." Kurt/Diane, Will/Diane friendship
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: This if for jittahbug on Tumblr who wanted a story about Diane, Kurt, and Will going on a trip together. I may have gotten a little carried away. Also, I needed another fandom like I needed a hole in the head. This is all blueheronz' fault.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

* * *

><p><span>Caught up in Circles<span>

The elevator door closes, transporting law partners Will Gardner and Diane Lockhart, along with a gaggle of suitcases, briefcases, and laptop bags, to the lobby of their building, where outside a car waits to ferry them to the airport.

"Will, I don't know. I still don't think it's a good idea for both of us to be gone right now," Diane cautions, and not for the first time that day.

Her partner reaches out and briefly grasps her arm in reassurance. "We need this guy, Diane, and he wants both of us there. We don't have a choice if we want his business. And after losing so many clients to Cary and Alicia, we _need_ his business."

"I know, I know." She hefts her laptop bag over her shoulder and picks up her briefcase, as Will collects his own bags. "But leaving David and Julius here alone with things so unstable? It's just asking for trouble."

"It's only for a couple of days. Do you really think those two can get along well enough to start a revolution in that short amount of time?"

Diane laughs. "I admit it's unlikely, but haven't we had enough nasty surprises lately?"

"I know. Look, we'll go to DC; we'll take care of this situation. We'll get Spencer's signature on the dotted line. Then, I'll come back and make sure the inmates don't take over the asylum and you and Kurt can leave for your honeymoon. It'll be fine. Trust me."

"Famous last words," Diane sighs, passing her bags to the driver who loads them into the truck of his Town Car.

"So where are you two crazy kids off to, anyway?" Will asks, opening the car door for her.

She shakes her head as she slides into the backseat. "I don't know; he won't tell me. I'm a little scared, Will."

Will laughs. "You picked him, lady." He closes the door and walks around to the other side of the car.

She smiles to herself. "I did."

* * *

><p>Kurt, with no pressing business in Chicago that morning, had gone to check on the farm and was to meet them at the airport before their flight. She sees him before he does her, in line for coffee, talking to a young woman of the type that always seems to flock to him, not that Diane can blame them, really. She's dressed in leather and jeans, her hair in a messy ponytail, and when she laughs flirtatiously, Kurt appears vaguely puzzled.<p>

"My husband," she says, more to herself than Will, who isn't listening in any case. "Making friends wherever he goes." She raises a hand to attract his attention. When he spots her, he heads immediately in her direction, young woman forgotten along with the coffee. Diane almost feels sorry for her.

They greet each other with a chaste peck, though there's nothing chaste about the look her gives her when he pulls back. She feels it down to her toes.

Will looks up from his iPhone then, and the two men exchange greetings, Will's casual, Kurt's strained, though no one but Diane would ever know it. Kurt has not quite forgiven Will for his part the recent attempt to force her from the firm. She's explained she wasn't exactly blameless in the situation, and he'll even admit his distaste for the other man isn't entirely logical, but there you have it. He's comfortable in his bias. While she loves him for it, she hopes this trip will serve to smooth things over, because frankly, she has enough stress in her life without the two most important people in it being at odds. Truth be told, the current armistice between her and Will is shaky enough all on its own.

They complete the minutia of checking in and security and such, and board their flight with a minimum of frustration. Will, having booked his flight separately, is seated in a different section, leaving Kurt and Diane a couple of hours of relative privacy. He picks her hand up from her lap as they begin their ascent. Kissing it, he folds it between his own two hands and drops them to his lap. Closing his eyes, he rests his head against the back of the seat.

"Sooo…" she begins, and he opens his eyes to look at her. "Care to tell me now where we're going?"

"DC?" he suggests, giving her the crooked smile she first fell in love with almost four years ago.

"Ha. After that."

He shrugs. "Not sure yet."

He's pulling her leg…she thinks. It's still hard for her to tell sometimes.

"It was difficult to pack," she tells him. "I didn't know if I needed a ball gown, or my hip waders."

"You have hip waders?"

"No. You see my difficulty."

"I'm sure whatever you brought will be fine. If not, you'll shop." He shrugs again.

"Win-win," she says.

"Exactly." He squeezes her hand and closes his eyes again, clearly done with the subject.

She shakes her head, pulls a brief from her bag and begins to read.

* * *

><p>Their hotel suite is lovely with its king-size bed and fresh flowers and its immense window with a panoramic view of the city. It's dark by the time they arrive and the night shines in, casting coloured lights and shadows on the walls and ceiling.<p>

Kurt flicks on the lights and takes their suitcases to the bedroom, while Diane sets her purse and laptop on the desk in the sitting area and goes to freshen up. Something about plane rides always makes her want to shower, but she settles for washing her hands and brushing her hair.

"Dinner?" Kurt suggests the when she emerges from the hotel bathroom. He's half sitting, half lying on the couch, room service menu in hand.

She walks over to join him, nudging his arm until he puts it around her shoulders. "Let's go out, Kurt. Or at least to the restaurant downstairs. Oh come on," she adds at his look of supreme disinterest. "Please? For me?"

"All right, all right," he says. "Fine. We'll eat downstairs. Your partner joining us?"

"No, I don't think so. He said something about a date."

Kurt laughs shortly, but makes no comment on the geographical oddities of Will's social life.

She starts to get up, but he holds on to her arm. "Come here a second."

"I am here."

"No. Here." He pulls her closer, wrapping his free arm around her and pulling until she's cuddled against his chest. "I love you, you know."

"I know. I love you too." She lifts her head and kisses him softly. "But I'm still making you eat in public. Come on."

* * *

><p>The elevator opens as soon as she presses the button and they enter hand in hand. She'd managed to not only convince Kurt to get up and join her out in the world of other people, but she'd even convinced him to trade his usual jeans and plaid shirt for a nice suit. The fact that he brought one at all bodes well, in her mind, for whatever he's planning for their honeymoon.<p>

"Wait, hold the elevator, please," someone calls as Diane presses the button for the lobby. A grey-haired man of about sixty wearing an unbuttoned overcoat, his blue striped tie askew, jogs down the hall as Kurt sticks his hand between the elevator doors to keep them open.

"Thanks, buddy," he says as he enters the elevator. "I'm late for…Diane?"

He's staring at her, mouth slightly agape in shock. It actually takes her a moment to place him. Looking back, she can't believe it, but it does.

"Mitch. Hello," she says at last.

She sounds calm enough. She probably looks calm enough. But she grips Kurt's hand like the world is spinning off its axis.

Maybe it is.


	2. Chapter 2

She knows she should make introductions but the words refuse to come. It's all she can do to remain steady on her feet. When she doesn't say anything else, Kurt looks from her to Mitch, and back to her, concern etched on his rugged face. He squeezes her hand in reassurance and then releases it, offering it to the other man. "Kurt McVeigh," he says. "Diane's husband."

The other man accepts the handshake. "Mitch Harper. An old friend. I'll let Diane explain. As I said, I'm running a bit late, and here we are," he says as the elevator doors open. He steps through them and takes a step or two into the lobby before he turns back. "It's really nice to see you, Diane," he says.

"Yes, you too," she says faintly, only recovering enough to force a smile when he's already turned away.

"Who was that?" Kurt asks as they exit the elevator themselves and turn in the direction of the hotel restaurant.

"That," she says with forced calm, "was the road not taken.

* * *

><p><em>Her roommates have dragged her to a little pub off-campus, ignoring her protests that she really should be studying. As should they, she thinks but does not say. They already think she's far too serious for her own good. And perhaps she is, but with first semester examinations beginning in less than a week, she doesn't think now is the time to revisit that choice.<em>

_So she pretends to drink the beer they've placed in front of her and watches the band warm-up for their second set while she runs French verb conjugations in her mind._

_Lost in concentration, she doesn't even realise what's happening around her until a full pint of beer lands in her lap and the boy who belongs to it falls at her feet._

_"Oh!" she exclaims, jumping up and sending frothy liquid cascading to the floor and into her shoes. "Are you okay?"_

_"Yeah, fine. Embarrassed. God, I'm so sorry. Look, I got beer all over you," he says, jumping to his feet. He looks around in every direction before grabbing a few cocktail napkins from a nearby table and offering them to her._

_"It's okay," she says, accepting the napkins and dabbing at her now beer-drenched skirt. Truth be told, she's already decided this incident gives her the perfect excuse to go home and he laughs when she tells him as much._

_"I should probably be home studying too," he says. He's cute, she realises, with warm brown eyes behind round glasses and a friendly, if sheepish, smile. "My friends disagreed."_

_She laughs. "Mine too."_

_"Well," he says. "I'm sorry I ruined your outfit, but I'm glad I provided an escape, if that's what you wanted. Can I walk you home at least?"_

_She considers this. He seems harmless enough and there will be plenty of people on the route home if he tries to get fresh. She nods. "I'd like that." _

* * *

><p>"Old boyfriend?" Kurt asks as they walk into the restaurant.<p>

"Something like that," she says, staring straight ahead. He glances over at her, but doesn't comment further. He always seems to have an innate sense of when she needs to talk and when she just can't. He won't push; it's not his nature.

"For two," he tells the hostess, and they're led to a small round table by the window. Kurt pulls out her chair and she sits, mind still in the elevator with Mitch.

He had looked so old. With his steel gray hair and the deep lines around his eyes and mouth, he wasn't unattractive, but he certainly was no longer the twenty-four year old young man that lives in her mind's eye. Of course she knows time has marched on; all she has to do is look in the mirror for confirmation of that, but still, it had been disconcerting to see him like that, looking startlingly like his own grandfather.

In fact, he probably _is_ someone's grandfather now, if his life has gone as he intended all those years ago. Someone's grandfather, someone's father, someone's husband. She hadn't noticed if he wore a wedding ring, but surely…

"Diane." Kurt's voice breaks into her reverie and she realises both he and the hostess are looking at her expectantly. "What do you want to drink?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Chardonnay, please."

Kurt orders a beer and the hostess leaves.

"Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost." He pauses, frowning. "Wait, did that guy _do_ something to you?"

She knows what he's implying and shakes her head. "No, no, nothing like that. It's just, it's been a long time, that's all. Forty years. I'm old, Kurt." She forces a smile she doesn't feel. "And I don't want to talk about him anymore. What do you have planned for tomorrow while I'm working?"

As it turns out, Kurt has a full day of conferences and meetings scheduled himself, the topics of which are subjects best avoided if they wanted to enjoy a peaceful dinner. Not that they don't discuss, debate, and argue their political differences regularly and with passion. They do, often and to both of their enjoyment, but they've learned over the course of their relationship that restaurants aren't the best place for those conversations.

"Well, I guess I don't have to worry about you being bored," she says wryly.

"Nope." He winks at her and she smiles again, genuinely this time. _Let the past lie, Diane,_ she tells herself. _Life is good, just the way it is._

It doesn't stop her from glancing around the restaurant as she eats, more often than she normally would. She's positive Kurt notices, but he makes no comment.

They've finished their entrees and are enjoying dessert and coffee when Will strolls up to them, pulls over a chair from a neighbouring table, and sits down.

"Hey kids."

"Hi," she says. "Thought you had a date?"

He gives a one-shouldered, unconcerned shrug. "So did I. It's a long, boring story. How was your dinner?"

"Very good. Sorry we're just about done, or we'd invite you to join us."

"Already ate anyway," Will says. "I saw you just as I was on my way upstairs and thought maybe your husband might let me borrow you for a bit of last minute strategizing before bed."

Will and Diane both look to Kurt who has been silent to this point.

"Sure, far be it from me to interfere with legal geniuses at work." He leans over to kiss his wife. "I think I'll go up to the room and read. Don't keep her out too late," he adds jokingly to Will.

"No, sir," Will jokes back while Diane rolls her eyes, outwardly faux-annoyed, but inwardly glad for the levity.

After Kurt leaves and the waiter brings them each a scotch, Will gets down to business. "I called Spencer after we got in, to let him know we arrived and to confirm tomorrow's appointment," he tells her. "There's been a slight change of plans."

"Oh?" Diane asks, pulling the napkin from her lap, refolding it, and setting it on the table.

"Yeah. As you know, he's looking for a full service firm to handle his corporate business, but also someone to act as a family retainer, so to speak. And now he's got a small personal matter he'd like handled for his brother-in-law, as kind of a test case, to see if the family likes us."

"What kind of case?"

"Don't know. He wanted us to hear the details from the brother-in-law personally. Guy named Mitchell Harper. We're meeting them for breakfast in the morning."


	3. Chapter 3

She doesn't really sleep. The unfamiliar shapes and shadows of the room draw her eye from one corner to the other and back again, while she tosses and turns, trying to find a comfortable spot in the unfamiliar bed. Kurt, disturbed by her restlessness, rolls over and wraps his arms around her, burying his face in her hair. He mumbles something incoherent, which she interprets as _be still, woman_.

Closing her eyes, she entwines her arms with his.

* * *

><p><em>"And he just left you there!" She laughs, holding one hand over her mouth.<em>

_He nods, grinning. "Yup. It's funny now, but at the time I could have killed him."_

_It's their third date, and the first one they've had since returning to school after the holidays. She hadn't really expected to hear from him again following more than two weeks of silence, but their first two dates had been fun, so when he called to invite her out for ice cream on a Saturday afternoon, she agreed._

_"I'll bet," she says. "Who does that?"_

_"My roommate. King of the Pranksters." He smiles, then looks down at his sundae, stirring the half-melted vanilla into the chocolate sauce._

_Suddenly awkward, she examines her own barely touched scoop of strawberry. She's never been a social butterfly, graduating high school before she even had her first date. She's not shy, not unattractive, but her father's influence on her has always been strong. "There will be plenty of time for a social life after you finish your schooling, Diane," he would say. "Nothing is more important than education, and as a female, you're going to have to work twice as hard to reach your goals. You need to keep your focus where it belongs." She'd heard variations on the theme from the time she could walk, and probably before. _

_In the interest of fitting in with her peers, she began accepting the odd date after she started college, but she rarely saw the same boy more than once. It wasn't until now, until Mitch, that she even wanted to._

* * *

><p>It's still dark when her cellphone alarm sounds from the bedside table. Her eyes fly open and her hand shoots out to capture and silence the insect-like buzzing. She's wide awake immediately, as she normally is, but she doesn't get up. This is not a day she's in any hurry to start.<p>

Caught off-guard, she hadn't told Will about her connection to Mitchell Harper last night. That was probably a mistake, and one she'll have to rectify before their meeting. He deserves to know what he's walking into, whatever that may be. She just wishes she knew herself.

Is this all some kind of bizarre coincidence? Had Jim Spencer arranged this meeting completely unaware of his brother-in-law's history with his potential lawyer? Or was something else going on here? Did Mitch know about the upcoming meeting when they saw each other in the elevator? And if he did, why hadn't he said anything?

She hates this, having more questions than answers, feeling like she's fumbling around in the dark, looking for some elusive little thing she should be able to find, but can't. She's used to being the most prepared person in the room, the one others look to for answers and support. But how does one prepare for this?

Or maybe she's just being dramatic.

"Kurt," she says suddenly, wiggling over to his side of the bed and poking him in the side. "Wake up."

"Huh, what? What's wrong?" He's awake immediately and starting to sit up when she puts an arm across his chest to stop him.

"Nothing's wrong. I have to go soon, Will and I have a breakfast meeting in an hour. But I wanted to tell you something first.

"Okay," he says, lifting his arm so she can lay against his chest.

"Mitch Harper, the man we ran into in the elevator last night, he and I dated in college. We were together for a little over three years. We broke up just before I went to law school."

"Okay," he repeats, dragging the word out a bit, encouraging her to continue.

"Apparently, that's who my breakfast meeting is with. I didn't know that until Will told me last night after you left. It seems Jim Spencer, who brought us here to DC, is his brother-in-law, and there's something he wants us to handle for him. I don't know what, and I don't know if Mitch knows I'm involved."

"Okay," he says for a third time.

"Okay? Is that all you have to say? Don't you think this is strange?" Sometimes she wishes he weren't so utterly unflappable. It can be damned annoying at times. She starts to sit up, but his arm at her back holds her in place.

"Was it a bad break-up?" he asks, fingers threading through the ends of her hair. It's nice and despite herself, she begins to relax.

"No, I… No. No worse than any other," she says. "We were just kids when we met. When we grew up a bit, it turned out we wanted different things from life."

He rises up on his elbow and regards her seriously.

"It's been forty years, Diane," he says, putting his hand to her cheek. "You're a hard woman to get over; no one knows that better than I do, but don't you think enough time has passed that, if knows about you at all, he just thinks you're a damned good lawyer and one he can trust?"

He's right of course. That's probably all there is to it. She's just being vain, thinking the hazy distant past has any relevance to who either of them are today. She sighs. "I knew there was a reason I kept you around."

She puts her hand to the back of his neck and pulls him down into a kiss, gentle at first but beginning to gain passion as hands roam under the bedding.

She pulls back, putting her hand on his chest and clears her throat. "I really have to go," she says with more than a little regret.

"Do you want me to come with you?"

It's a considerate, but empty offer. They both know he can't. She shakes her head. "No. It'll be fine. I just don't like not knowing what's going on."

"It's probably just a coincidence. They do happen, Diane."

"Maybe. I guess I'll find out soon enough."

* * *

><p>She tells Will in the car on the way to the restaurant. While talking it out with Kurt has calmed her considerably, she still feel she owes her partner a heads-up, if for no other reason than the fact that it will soon be apparent that she and Mitch are already acquainted.<p>

"Okay," he says when she finishes, "I agree, it could be little weird, but it was a long time ago, right?" At her nod he continues. "If you're not comfortable with being involved in Harper's case, we'll split up. I'll handle him and you take Spencer's contract negotiations."

It's a reasonable suggestion, so she nods her agreement.

"And Diane, we're not committed to anything here. If you want to walk, we walk. If anything feels funny, just say the word and we're out of there."

"Will, we need the business."

"We need business. We don't need this specific business. Not if makes you uncomfortable. There are other clients." He reaches out and gives her hand a quick squeeze. "Don't worry, I'll take the lead in there."

She breathes deeply, in then out, as they pull into the parking lot of the restaurant.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. I really appreciate it. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

_"They'll love you, Didi. How could they not?"_

_She can think of many reasons, some realistic, some not, but insecurity is unbecoming so she doesn't give them voice. Instead she smiles at Mitch from the passenger seat of his car. "I'm just nervous."_

_"Well don't be. I promise it'll be fine. They'll love you as much as I do."_

_They turn left off the main road and follow a narrow, tree-lined lane for several hundred feet before coming upon an open gate, beyond which the lane turns into a circular driveway in front of a huge Georgian-style mansion._

_She turns to stare at him. "You live here?"_

_Her father is a retired law professor; her mother, a reasonably successful artist. Her upbringing was solidly upper-middle class, but the house in front of her is like nowhere she's ever been._

_He looks vaguely embarrassed. "Yeah."_

_"Are you royalty? Did your great-great-grandfather invent the button?" she teases._

_He rolls his eyes. "Come on, let's go in."_

* * *

><p>Will proceeding her, they follow the hostess to the table. Jim and Mitch are already seated, coffee in hand. Both men rise as they approach the table.<p>

"Jim," Will says, shaking the other man's hand. James Spencer, bald, rotund and jovial, started his career as a banker, but a combination of family money and good luck had allowed him to dabble in this and that, as his interests dictated. The man had a great deal of interests. "You know Diane Lockhart, I believe?"

"Of course. Good morning, Ms. Lockhart, how are you?"

"Diane," she says, accepting his offered hand. "Very well, thank you."

"And I understand you know my brother-in-law, Mitchell Harper."

The grin Mitch gives her belongs to a twenty year old boy and it's a little jarring to see it on his sixty year old face. "Hi Didi," he says.

Will's eyebrows shoot upward and he tries to hide a bark of laughter behind a raspy cough. She can feel herself blushing, but forces a light laugh. "No one's called me that in more years than I care to remember. Hello Mitchell."

In fact, no one has called her that ever, outside of Mitch and his family. Even the young co-ed she was back then had found it mildly irritating. The bubbly diminutive just hadn't suited her at all. It suits the mature woman she is today even less.

"Sorry," he says ruefully. "Diane. And Mr. Gardner," he says shaking first her hand and then Will's in turn. "Thank you for meeting with us. Won't you sit down?"

They take their seats and place their breakfast orders with the waitress. She requests toast and fruit salad, though all she really wants is strong, black coffee. She can feel a headache building behind her right eye, a side effect of her poor night's sleep.

Will remains true to his word and takes control of the conversation from the outset, making small talk about their flight and their hotel and then launching into his standard history of the firm speech. Diane listens with half an ear, interjecting her parts of the speech by rote while she watches Mitch listen.

Her impression last night, that he looked much like his own grandfather had forty years ago, holds true, at least as far as her memory from so long ago can be trusted. His hair is completely grey, cropped short, but still thick. His clothing is tastefully sedate, and clearly expensive. He's clean-shaven and neatly manicured, and if he's carrying a few more pounds than he did in his twenties, he's carrying them well. Nothing about him suggests he's veered at all from the course that was planned for him from birth.

"So," Will finishes up, "What can Lockhart/Gardner do for you?"

"Well, as you know," Jim says, "I'm looking at divesting myself of a group of my smaller interests. We're just about to enter negotiations with a potential buyer. Will, we would like it if you would help us out with that. And then Mitch here has a personal matter he wants Diane to handle for him."

Diane and Will glance at each other before she turns to Mitch. "And what is that?"

"I'm getting divorced," he says.

Whatever she was expecting to hear, that wasn't it. A simple divorce hardly seems reason to pay a high powered out-of-state law firm. But then, a divorce in Mitchell's family is probably not simple at all. "Oh. I'm sorry," she says.

He shrugs. "Don't be. I'm not. It's a long time in coming."

"Okay. Well. In any case, our firm has an excellent family law expert. His name is David Lee, and I don't think he has anything pressing going on right now…" She glances to Will for confirmation, who nods. "I can contact him, see if we can set up a call." She slips on her glasses and pulls her phone from her pocket as she speaks.

"No." Mitch is shaking his head across the table.

"I'm sorry?" She stops, finger poised to swipe.

"I don't want someone else. I want you. I trust you, Didi."

She grits her teeth at the nickname, but doesn't acknowledge it outwardly. "I appreciate the vote of confidence Mitchell, but truly, you'd be better off with David. I don't remember the last divorce I handled. I do mostly criminal work, some civil, but not family. Your interests would be better served by an expert. David is a senior partner; he has a..."

"Diane, I've done my research, okay?" Mitch interrupts. "I know you're damned good at what you do. I understand this isn't your usual thing, but I have every confidence you can handle it. This isn't an easy situation, and I'd prefer to work with someone I know. Please consider it."

He doesn't know her, though. Maybe he had once, long ago, but he certainly doesn't now. None of this is making any sense to her.

"Is this going to be an issue?" Jim Spencer asks, looking from Diane to Will.

Will doesn't answer, but she can see the tension in his shoulders. They need Spencer's business, and more than that they, as a firm, need a win. Will needs it, and she needs it too. Spencer's many business interests, with all their varied legal needs, would be a brilliant feather in their cap. If all she has to do is negotiate one divorce settlement for some man she used to know, well it's not that great a price to pay. She'll meet with Mitchell, find out the details, handle the initial negotiations, and then pass it off to an associate to finalize. Nothing to it. She and Kurt will be off to…wherever…in a few days.

"No," she says, setting down her phone. "It's fine. I'll do it."


End file.
